


Chasing Dragons

by ZeroInvador



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragon Amélie, Dragons, F/F, How to Train Your Dragon AU, I'm giving Brigitte a girlfriend if it's the last thing I do, Overwatch AU, Vikings, Vikings fighting dragons, Widowtracer, based off the movie, human viking Lena, small hints of Brigitte/Lena but it's all innocent, the au nobody but my girlfriend asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroInvador/pseuds/ZeroInvador
Summary: Lena Oxton, a scrawny young viking who wishes she could make a mark on her clan ends up making friends with the most unlikely of beings.





	Chasing Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> So here comes another long story from me. I've wanted to write this for a good few months but not while I still wrote Treacherous Waters, just in case I felt like abandoning it. 
> 
> I love dragons, so I've been dying to do this. The movies hold a big spot in my heart. How to Train Your Dragon was the first movie I watched with my girlfriend, and I'm a sentimental dork so here we are!
> 
> As much as I wish I did, I don't own Overwatch or HTTYD. This fic will pretty much be based on the movie with a few little twists of my own :)

Vikings _hated_ dragons.

 

That was the first thing Lena remembered being told as a child. Dragons were vicious and emotionless creatures to be avoided at all costs. They stole livestock, burned down crop fields, and ambushed the small village she lived in for fun, feeding off the terror of humans.

Her village was a small one, built around a large mountain near the sea. It was the home to around five or so generations, although every single building was new, thanks to the dragon attacks.

Lena had trained her whole life in preparation for any possible attacks - or rather, she'd tried to. She wasn't exactly what you'd call “Viking material” standing at 5”4 with twiggy arms and legs that looked like they’d snap in a strong gust of wind.

Nevertheless, she'd trained with the other teens her age, fighting hard against the wooden dummies in the training grounds, practicing her movements and forging her own weapons until her hands blistered.

As she'd gotten older without much improvement, it was decided she wouldn't be fit to fight alongside the others she'd trained with. Lena’s struggle with building strength had kept her back, leaving her to lag behind the other students. Her knowledge of dragons through studying could only get her so far.

It was for the best, she supposed.

Lena watched on as her old training buddies swung at each other in the courtyard, laughing and joking together as they prepared for the day’s workout. She sighed heavily, pushing off the windowsill and heading back into the small smithy she worked at. As she sat back at the forge, Torbjörn grunted in her direction.

“You've finally decided to come help me then, 'ave you?” He asked, taking a quick swig from a small silver flask before wiping his mouth and scraggly beard.

Lena shrugged, pulling her orange goggles over her eyes before grabbing the handles of the bellows, pushing them together in the forge.

The older blacksmith's face softened and he clapped her on the back with his metal limb. “It's for the best, Lena.” He told her gruffly.

Lena had heard that a few times too many. She simply nodded without looking, not wanting to start an argument. Instead, she'd take her frustration out on the tools she forged, hammering them down hard against the anvil until they lay flat across the surface. 

It felt bittersweet, how much Lena knew about dragons but couldn't fight them. She'd studied day and night, learnt how to track and trap, how to dodge attacks and follow their flying patterns. By the age of seven, Lena could easily identify every single dragon track left by a previous ambush, and even accurately guess the size and weight of each one.

All that knowledge going to waste, she thought.

After a few hours at the smithy, Lena pushed herself away from the forge, wiping the sweat from her forehead and lifting her goggles up over her damp hair. She glanced over to the window, finding the sky almost pitch black as people finished lighting the torches around the village.

She hung up her green apron and cleaned her station before making her way out the door.

Fresh air filled her lungs as she stepped outside and the light wind cooled her sweaty face. Lena followed the cobblestone path, down to her hut at the end of the walkway. She glanced around at the other huts and buildings in the area, seeing lights inside and hearing the low murmur of people talking.

She came to the end of the path and pulled the heavy wooden door of her own hut open, heaving it closed behind her. She sighed, leaning back against it for a few seconds as she took in her messy house. Books and parchment lay strewn around the small living room, as well as old tools and pencils. An unlit fireplace stood at the heart of the room, piled with empty pots and pans, and dry clean clothes hung from the rack against it.

Lena moved into the room to add a few small logs and dry hay to the empty fireplace. She grabbed the matches from the mantlepiece, striking one hard against the tiny matchbox until it lit. After a few minutes of light blowing, she managed to kindle a small fire. Lena watched as the flames crackled and licked the wooden logs, engulfing them in orange and yellow.

She held her hands out in front of her, warming her fingers against the cold before sitting back in her squashy brown armchair. Her eyes drooped closed as warmth from the fire filled the room.

In what felt like no time at all, Lena was abruptly shook awake. A large hand held her shoulder, roughly shaking her until she opened her eyes warily.

“Lena, get up,” a gruff voice told her urgently.

“Wha-”

Lena groggily opened her eyes, blinking hard against the sleep as she glanced up at the figure shaking her.

Reinhardt stood tall next to her chair, decked out in his heavy scaled armour. “No time to explain, the dragons are on us. Get to the shop and be ready!” he called over his shoulder as he exited the hut.

_Dragons!_

Lena jumped up, swaying unsteadily as her body got used to being awake. She stumbled towards the clothes rack, blindly searching for what she needed. She threw on her leather tunic and breastplate, along with her shoulder guards and gloves. After shoving her feet into her heavy boots, Lena made a fast break for the door.

Screams hammered her eardrums as soon as she wrenched open the door, and fire burned along the path as dragons swarmed overhead. She sped towards the shop, watching the large shadows move over the scorched grass under her boots.

As she arrived at the smithy, Lena rushed through the door, bolting it behind her swiftly. She snatched her apron from the hanger and shoved it over her head before getting to work.

Torbjörn entered the room, wiping his oily hands with a grey rag. “Ah, you're here! Thought you might have died,” he grinned, nudging her shoulder.

“Who, me? Nah, dragons can't get hold of this raw viking-ness,” she replied, flexing her arms.

“They'll need toothpicks won't they?” he chortled, grasping the window shutter mechanism to pull it open.

They both watched as fighters ran through the courtyard, wielding axes and swords over their heads. Lena looked away, gathering all the weapons she could carry and heaving them over to the window for people to take.

Just before she could turn back around, Lena jumped as a large green dragon landed right in front of the smithy. It's smooth emerald scales shined in the firelight as bright orange eyes narrowed in her direction, dirty yellow teeth dripping with saliva.

A loud shriek surprised both her and the dragon as they both whirled to the sound of the battlecry. Brigitte charged forward, her long copper hair trailing behind her as she raised her hammer in a wide arc, smashing the large head across the dragons face.

“THAT'S MY GIRL!” Torbjörn roared proudly next to Lena.

The dragon shook its spiky head as it roared in pain, snapping its jaws angrily as Brigitte swung her hammer with full force. With each swing, the dragon backed away, spreading its wings to launch off the ground.

They watched as the dragon flew away, leaving them to cover their eyes as a whirlwind of dirt was flung in their direction.

As if in slow motion, Lena watched as Brigitte stood with a slow smile on her face, winking in Lena's direction before taking off towards the other group of fighters.

Lena’s cheeks flared as she watched her sprint towards another dragon, yelling at the top of her lungs as she launched herself into another fight.

She peered in Torbjörn’s direction, nervous that he might have noticed her blushing. Thankfully, he seemed oblivious as he cheered on his daughter from afar.

As she tried to follow, a hand grabbed her by the scruff, yanking her back into the smithy.

“Where'd you think you're going?” Torb asked disapprovingly.

Lena huffed, gesturing towards the fighters. “I can help them!”

He shook his head. “You'll get yourself killed, then you wouldn't be a help to anyone.”

“Come on, Torb! If I can bring down a dragon, my life would change! I might even get a date,” she pleaded. “Lemme just show you my latest-”

“No-”

“-invention!” She carried on as if never interrupted, crouching down next to what looked like a small wooden catapult. “This one's definitely gonna work, watch, you just pull this and-”

After pulling the lever, the catapult lurched forward and launched a pair of bolas into a group of vikings at the window, knocking one straight in the face.

Lena froze as the man yelped in surprise, and she sheepishly scratched the back of her neck.

“Okay, that was just a simple mistake that I can fix by-”

“Lena, _no._ You need to stop all of… _this,_ ” he said, waving over her.

She looked down at herself then back to him. “But you just gestured to all of me!”

“Yes, exactly! You need to stop being all of you.” he nodded in agreement.

Lena narrowed her eyes. “Oh I see.”

Torb hummed, crossing his arms as he stared her down.

“You really want to hold back all this raw, viking energy? There'll be consequences!” she warned, clenching her fists.

“I'll take my chances,” he guffawed, sitting back at the anvil.

Lena huffed and continued to look through the window, watching as the large guard tower crumbled to firey pieces. A dark shape- almost impossible to see against the night sky- flew past the smoldering wreckage, shooting bright blue balls of fire into the line of catapults just outside the blacksmith's shop.

Torbjörn muttered something about 'fire damage’ before grabbing an axe from the rack and yanking open the door. “Man the fort Lena, they need me out there!” He ordered, making a move to walk out before stopping and turning back to face her. “Stay put.” His eyes narrowed as he pointed to the floor. “Here.”

Lena smiled sweetly in response and nodded. He shook his head and charged off, leaving her to watch from the window. Once he was out of sight, Lena quickly turned and dropped to her knees, loading up her mini catapult. She lifted her latest invention and dumped it inside a wheelbarrow before making her way through the door.

She pushed the barrow through the hordes of villagers, calling apologies over her shoulder after bumping into a few of them. She made her way up one of the peaks, a large hill with plenty of space but very little cover and waited.

Her fingers switched over the trigger as she strained her ears, listening for any signs of the dragon. Her eyes darted from the vast area in front of her to the sky, locking onto a swift shape that glided overhead.

Lena took aim, following the shadows movements as it flew closer. A loud whistling noise filled her ears as she took her final aim, grasping the lever tightly before yanking back and letting go.

The bolas she'd loaded into her catapult with burst through the sky, spinning like a windmill fan until they caught onto the shape. A loud screech caused her to cover her ears, and she watched as the shadow tumbled down the hill towards the forest below.

Lena’s eyes widened and she rubbed a hand over her cheek. “I-I did it, I actually hit a dragon!” She laughed, squinting her eyes to see where it landed.

Her victory was short lived as something else lurked closer, growling and snarling behind her. She froze, holding her breath as a shadow on the ground showed a large dragon rearing, preparing to attack.

“LENA, MOVE!” a familiar voice screamed at her.

She didn't need telling twice.

Just before the dragon landed where she'd been standing, Lena ducked and rolled out of the way. She turned back in time to see her catapult get smashed to pieces underneath the dragon's sharp talons.

A figure jumped next to her, helping Lena to her feet. She glanced up to find Torbjörn’s daughter, wiping the dirt and blood from her face as she hauled Lena up.

“Come on, I will be your shield! Go!” Brigitte yelled, pushing Lena's back to run down the hill.

Lena peered behind her to see Brigitte holding out a large shield behind them as the dragon spat fire in their direction.

They both sprinted towards the courtyard, luring the dragon closer. Lena heard shouts and cries behind her and peered back, seeing fighters throw necks and chains over the large red beast that chased them.

Brigitte ushered them inside her father's smithy, slamming the door behind them. They both breathed hard as they struggled to catch their breath. Lena collapsed on all fours, her face coated in sweat as she heaved.

“What,” Brigitte began, panting against the door, “were you _thinking_?”

Lena shook her head, still gasping for breath. That must have been the fasted she'd ever ran in her life.

With a final sigh, Brigitte pushed off from the door and knelt beside her, rubbing her back. “You brave, brave fool, Lena Oxton,” She chuckled. “I won't tell my father but please, don't do that again. I can't be your knight in shining armour _all_ the time.”

“Shut up,” Lena groaned, wiping the sweat from her warm face.

After waiting a few minutes, the screams and roars had died down, replaced by that familiar empty crackling of fire. Brigitte stood and peered through the window. “Looks like the fight is over. Come on, I'll take you home,” she offered, holding out a hand for Lena to take.

Lena grasped her hand gratefully, pulling herself up from the ground before leaving the smithy and trudging her way home, still holding onto Brigitte's hand.

Her thoughts came to the dragon she'd shot from the sky, and where it might have landed. She was disappointed that nobody had seen her do it, but perhaps if she could bring the carcass - or just the head - back with her, it'd show how capable she was.

She made a mental note after Brigitte left to gather some supplies before the trek. Tomorrow she would take a trip into the woods in search of the beast she'd shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Nox for beta reading, and now putting up with my shit for another long fic. Good luck, nerd.


End file.
